In Truth And Lies
by DragonWyrd
Summary: This is the life of Anatanasia Cousland and the man she's held in her heart for eight years, their struggles and their joys, the wonderful Nathaniel Howe.
1. Prologue

_**In Truth and Lies…**_

Prologue

Anatanasia Cousland leaned heavily on the pommel of her sword, her shield hung haphazardly over her back, as she surveyed the damage done to the Vigil, in between the darkspawn that had attacked and the seemingly insane Dworkin's explosion within the inner bailey. Shifting a glance toward the door to the tunnel of hallways which led to the throne room, she then turns back to focus her attention on the mad scramble of those still living to try and set things to rights and try to patch up the wounded. Stopping by those she could, she offered up her gratitude and thanks, trying to convey her appreciation to those who stayed on after the battle.

Seeing Queen Anora approach earlier, after the last of the darkspawn had been dispatched, and prior to the Joining that left Mhairi dead, caused her gut to clench. She knew the woman wasn't happy to see her, as her and Arl Eamon had conspired to depose her, and nearly said as much at the brief meeting, but one didn't anger the person who could have you branded a traitor for setting foot in the slightest of wrong directions.

"_Had I accepted Morrigan's offer… had Alistair not rushed ahead of me to kill the Archdemon… __**HE **__would be regent, not her…_" the same mantra ran its course through her mind as it had the past six months. She could still taste their last kiss upon her lips, she could still feel the weight of him in her arms as she held him in death, she could still see the wonder in his eyes the first night they made love. His last words of love still echoed in her mind and she slumps down into a sitting position against one of the rock walls, the sound of her armor against the stone creating a noise that would make even a shriek envious, as her weight settles into the muddy ground beneath.

"_Had I known then what I know now, I still wouldn't have accepted the ritual,"_ she thinks, raising her face to the rain, letting it pelt her skin. Her and Morrigan had forged an uneasy truce during their travels, but it wasn't enough for her to trust the woman when she tried to talk Ana into having Alistair spend the night to conceive some sort of dark ritualistic child. Knowing the kind of power Flemeth wielded and the power Morrigan sought, the thought of a babe with the soul of an old god made her quite nervous. Even so, she did not relish the thought of Anora on the throne, knowing the woman also blamed her for her father's death, even though it was Alistair who did the deed after besting Loghain in singles combat.

"_I feel forty instead of twenty-four some days, today being one of them,_" she thinks darkly, cracking one eye open then blinking it shut against the burn of a raindrop hitting her square in the center of it.

"_What in the hell did I ever do to piss off the Maker so much that I end up in this forsaken place, feeling so lost and alone. My brother's tending to Highever, Alistair's gone, and the rest of my friends have scattered to the four winds. Granted, Oghren's here, but he's not the same dwarf I once knew. Even in this short amount of time I can tell that he spends more time in his cups than he used to. There's a story there, if I can just get it out of him…_" her thought trails off as she hears approaching footsteps.

"Oi, it's the Warden Commander. Pardon, ser, but are ye all right sittin' in the muck like that?" a nervous feminine voice inquires.

Ana shifts the direction of her face and, when she's sure another raindrop won't find a way to squeeze in, she cracks open an eye to look up at the blond officer, the woman shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"I'm fine, soldier. Is there a reason you came for me or were you just curious what the new commander looked like?" she bites out, her neck protesting as she tries to work out the kink from having her head hang back against her shoulders for so long.

"N-No ser! I mean yes ser! I mean, I have correspondence for ye, ser," the young woman replies, taking a step back at the snap in Anatanasia's voice.

Sighing, Ana pulls herself up into a standing position, paying no mind to the mud still clinging to her armor's volcanic aurum surface.

"Look, bad day, ok? Not a good time to sneak up on me, even if that wasn't your intention. May I see the missives?" she huffs out, looking over at the soldier who looks like a forlorn pup with no sense of direction.

"H-Here ser. Umm, you should also know there's a prisoner in the dungeon. 'E was hard to capture, 'e was. Took four men to finally catch and subdue 'im. The other men, they're not too happy he's still alive while many others died during the darkspawn attack," the woman stated, her voice thrumming with nerves, as she hands over the stack of correspondence.

"Thank you, soldier. Dismissed," she says, barely paying attention to the other woman now as she shifts through what she had been given, then shrugs and shoves the parchment in between her armor and padding. After inquiring from a passing soldier where the dungeons were located, she marches quickly to the door, letting her eyes adjust to the flickering shadows within, a half stump of a candle the only light. Noticing a guard near the cell door, she approaches, and flicks her head in the direction of the lamps on the wall.

"It's too dark in here. Why aren't those lit?" she queries, trying to peer through the shadows to the figure beyond the edge of light, and seeing only the flickers of flame reflected back to her from the darkest, most intense eyes she had ever seen.

"Beg pardon, Warden Commander. Just trying to conserve the oil. I'll go light them now if you wish?" the man asks, waiting for her order.

"Yes. I wish to speak to the prisoner and I'd rather not do it in a room with more shadows than light. Any idea as to his identity?"

"No, ser. He won't talk to us. Figured we'd leave him in here 'til you figured out what to do with him, and then it's whatever the Commander wishes," he answers, the light growing much brighter in the room as both of the oil lamps are lit.

"_I deserved… more…_" the raspy voice of Arl Rendon Howe echoes in her head, before ending in a death rattle, the contempt in his voice as he spoke of her family and their supposed machinations to depose the king and put an Orlesian on the throne the only reason why she was able to feel no pain watching the man she had considered as a second father die before her eyes. Some of the same features of his face were a faint echo on the man in the cell, though his were less pronounced, less sharp, younger, and infinitely better proportioned. As she approached the cell doors, her eyes never leaving the prisoner, her voice rings out to the guard.

"Please wait for me outside. I will call for you when I'm ready."

"Ser, that's not a good idea. It took us four men to get him in here."

"Do not question me. Wait outside. I can handle this better than you seem to give me credit for. Dismissed!"

~oOo~

He watched her approach his current living accommodations, her face three-quarters shadowed as the light shone from behind her. Her hair was a bedraggled braid hanging down the front of her armor and almost to her waist. While he could not place their color, her eyes pierced into him, cutting deep, and he almost started to rethink his plan until he heard her order the guard to leave.

"_Oh good. This will make things that much easier,"_ he grins to himself, standing to lean in a nonchalant manner against the stone wall behind him.

"You know, I thought you'd be ten feet tall with lightening shooting out of your eyes," he quips, watching how the flames cause shadows to dance over the still hidden face of his captor.

"The darkspawn certainly think so, but we're not here to trade humorisms. Who are you, and why did you attempt to break into the Vigil?" Folding her arms over her chest, she cocks one hip to the side as she watches him, her frosty blue eyes watching every movement of his body, sizing him up, calculating what his first move might be, were he so stupid as to try and attack her. As long as he didn't recognize her, she would pretend to not recognize him.

"I always thought my father's _murderer_ would be more impressive," he continues, venom lacing the deep timbre of his voice. "And I came here to kill you, until I realized all I wanted was my family's things, personal artifacts of the Howe family. While you may live in this keep for now, there are some things that should still be considered my family's property. I am Nathaniel Howe, at your service, Commander," he finishes with heavily laced sarcasm, tipping his upper body into a slight, mocking bow.

"Your _father_ brought his end on _himself_. I mean, if you wished, I could have had Alistair kill him, then you'd have a dead man to blame… oh wait, you still _do_! Don't look at me to be the scapegoat of your father's crimes, Nathaniel Howe, for while he did die by my hand…" she trails off as he rushes her, and while momentarily knocked off balance, she rights herself and grabs his arm, flipping him to his back before leaning over him and placing a her calf from knee to ankle, in a very precarious position running from navel to the family jewels. Letting a bit of her weight rest on him, that of her body and armor being not exactly light, she stares down at Nathaniel, her face now fully revealed to him.

"_By Andraste's Blood, it's Ana! Ana Cousland! Wait, wh-what's going on here?"_ the thoughts race through his mind as he stares up at the face of the daughter belonging to his father's best friend and the hatred written all over its features whenever his father is mentioned. Coughing a bit at the weight applied to him, and where exactly some of it was, he looks nervously down at her leg then up at her.

"You have no idea of even _half_ of your father's crimes. He delighted in torturing innocents, one of them being a friend to your brother Thomas. His greedy little nuglicker mind couldn't handle being just an Arl, no matter the fact that it is a respectable title. No, that scurvy bastard elevated himself as Loghain's second. In the process, he became not only the Arl of Amaranthine, but the Arl of Denerim. Unfortunately, by accident, well not really, I killed the last remaining Kendall heir to the arling - then again that little snot was abusing the elves in the alienage, so I figured I'd give him a quick and merciful death over having him rot in that little cell. Oh no, not only was his new place at Loghain's side, and two arlings not enough, but he took it upon himself, in the dead of night, to slay an entire household. Servants, soldiers, guests, and all but two of the family members. Not only was your father the arl of two major cities, and Loghain's second, but he had elevated himself, _by the slaughter of my family_, to the Teyrn of Highever," she growls leaning her face low over his.

"His last words, before he died, and oh how I enjoyed the feel of his blood on my hands after feeling the blood of my father's as he died in the capture of my home, was 'I deserved more'. I had justice on my side, as King Cailan, before he died, told me directly that he would see your father hanged for his crimes against my family. That your entire family suffers over the deeds of one man, I apologize, but mine didn't deserve to die by his greed."

Nathaniel lay still, soaking in her words, staring at her in disbelief. How was he supposed to deal with this? The words she spoke of his father sounded so wrong, but yet rang with a terrible truth. His body is stiff as she shifts above him, wincing as some of the sharper ends of her armor press into soft, uncomfortable places, as she stands.

"How is it you know none of this? Where have you been these last couple of years?" she demands, crossing her arms over her chest in a seemingly relaxed position, though he can tell she's anything but.

"I've been in the Free Marches these past eight years, surviving by my own wits. I came home to find my father dead, my home taken over, and my family name in disgrace," he stands slowly, his eyes warring with hers in a silent war of will.

"I've since learned that Thomas is dead, and I can find no trace of Delilah, so all I can do is think she shared his fate during the Blight. How would you react were you to come back home after being shipped away for so long, to learn of your family's decimation and your father's murder?"

"What did you learn in the Free Marches? What are your skills?" she demands, completely disregarding his last comment.

"Useful things - tracking, poisons, and the like…" he answers warily, watching her brain calculating behind her frosty blue eyes.

"I know what I'm going to do with you…" she smirks before bellowing for the guard. As the man rushes in, weapons drawn in case it was an attack, he stops suddenly, almost skewering himself in the process, before realizing no fighting was going on.

"Get Seneschal Varel. Tell him I have decided what to do with the prisoner," she ordered, the man nodding and stuttering a few 'yes sers' to her before doing as he was bid.

~oOo~

"Well, my lady?" Varel inquires as he approaches Ana and Nathaniel. "What is your wish?"

"Did you know this man is a Howe?" she asks, darting a glance up at the older man before returning her gaze to Nathaniel.

"A Howe? They make dangerous enemies, Commander," he warns, awaiting her decision.

"I'm invoking the Right of Conscription. He'll be made a Grey Warden," she announces, to the shock and dismay of all three of the men.

"Are you sure…?" Varel asks, barely able to get even that thought out before Ana quickly answers.

"Right now it's myself and another warrior, a drunken dwarven one at that, and sparkle-fingers. We need to be more rounded out, Seneschal. He has skills that the rest of us do not employ, that we could definitely use."

"No, hang me first," Nathaniel interrupts, his arms folded over his chest.

"Did I say I was giving you a choice?" she asks him, her brow raising slightly as she looks at him.

"Do you really enjoy having someone follow you around who wants to kill you?"

"Some of my best friends have tried to kill me," she snickers, her mind briefly flashing on Zevran before returning to the task at hand.

"You are a very strange woman. I don't know if this is a vote of confidence or not," he watches her quizzically, the thoughts of his mind spinning in confusion.

"Think of it this way. You offered to have yourself hanged. The Joining could kill you. If you survive, you'll be alive to find some way to rebuild your family's honor. Fair trade?" she stares him down, daring him to resist. Unable to back down from any dare, even unspoken ones, he bolts for the door, stopping short when her shield snakes out in front of him and slams him to the ground, leaving him with a broken and bloody nose.

"By Andraste's knickers, where did you learn to hit so damned hard?" he groans, holding his nose in his hand.

Not responding, Ana looks up at Varel, inwardly grinning at the man's look of disgust as well as the spirit she remembered so well within Nathaniel still holding up.

"He _will_ participate in the Joining, if I have to close his nose and open his mouth wide to get it done, understand?"

With those parting words, Ana turns on her heel and marches out the door, Varel and Nathaniel trailing behind her.

~oOo~

"From here on out, Nathaniel Howe, you are a Grey Warden," Varel intones, as he hands the goblet of enchanted darkspawn blood to the other man to drink.

"The moment of truth," Nathaniel murmurs before taking a gulp of the nasty concoction within. Within moments, his body contorts in pain and his eyes become a filmy white before he passes out cold on the stone beneath.

"For better or worse, the Howe still lives. He is stronger than I thought," Varel says, glancing up at Ana with a worried look in his eyes.

"Look, I don't blame him for what his father did to my family, and it might take a while but I think he'll soon learn the same. Until then I'll keep my eyes open, but his skills are needed, Varel."

"If you say so, Commander," though the look in his eyes is disbelieving as she turns on her heel and walks away. Grabbing the attention of a few servants, he gives the order that Nathaniel is to be carried to an empty room and left for the night.

~oOo~

The first dreams were of a nightmarish quality, nothing but horrid, twisted beings who left an acrid metallic tang in the back of his mouth, and a sludgy, oily feeling slithering over his skin and through him. The voices hissed and whispered through his mind, sounding almost reptilian in nature, but more sinister, and more guttural. Shaking his head vigorously in his sleep, the nightmares recede to be replaced with another, more familiar memory… one he'd held close to his chest for eight years.

_Music danced along his almost raw nerve endings, the pace matching the dancers twirling on the floor. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his formal wear, wincing at how he felt like some prancing stuffed bird trying to awkwardly participate in some banal mating ritual, with how the silk under tunic was pulled to peek out of the quilted blue velvet puffs on his sleeves. The cuffs at his wrists felt too tight and while the trousers weren't too bad, being a bit looser than he preferred and therefore restricting quick movement a bit, the overall __**blue**__ of the outfit and the sheer outrageousness of the silver and blue corded trim was just too much for him to bear._

"I'd rather be in my leathers, whacking at stuffed dummies in the courtyard, or target practice, than be paraded around this mess,"_ he thought to himself, tugging again at the collar that seemed to shrink with every breath he took._

"_Oh do stop fidgeting Nathaniel. You're twenty years old and about to go off to make a man out of yourself. Quit acting like a child," his mother admonished, smacking his hand away from his shirt._

"_Now go out and mingle. Drink some wine, have some food, and quit looking at the guests as if they're liable to bite your head off. Perhaps you'll find a suitable marriage prospect for when you return back to Ferelden," his mother sniped at him before strutting off. Glancing around the ballroom, he spotted his brother Thomas already trying to flirt with the women, easily noticed by the bright candy-apple red of his formals and enjoying every minute of it. For a lad of thirteen, he was doing a halfway decent job of things, until they both spotted the guest of honor at the same time, their reactions almost identical._

_The vision was one of cream and pale gold, the sleeves of the gown almost identical to those of his tunic, puffed at the shoulders, then formfitting down to her wrists, the over-gown a pale buttery gold, with the warm cream of the under-dress peaking out strategically here and there, through the shoulders, in intricate patterns along the sleeves, and gently curving and outlining the curve hugging bodice prior to falling in a shimmering sunny cacophony as the skirt belled around the lightly slippered wisp of a girl. Her hair was a halo of frothy curls, pulled up away from her face by clips of diamonds and golden topaz, the rest of her hair allowed to fall free to tease at the gentle curve of her waist. His hands itched to see if he could span her waistline with his large hands, hands that he felt were overly large and clumsy sometimes, but perhaps for someone like her, they would be just right - if they fit that is. Soon he lost her in the crush of the crowd that surrounded her, knowing his brother was in there somewhere, and he turned to indulge himself of the fare their hosts had laid out for everyone to partake of. _

_Grabbing a plate of food along with a glass of wine, Nathaniel snuck out of the ballroom, feeling overwhelmed by the heat of the many bodies closeted within, his nose wrinkling in memory of the mingled smells of too much perfume, powder, sweat, and body odor. Winding his way almost expertly through the halls, he exits out in the open area of the courtyard where the practice dummies were housed, and he lowers himself onto one of the benches, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Time seems to crawl as he nibbles on the food, partaking in the wine, and wondering how long they'd be expected to stay. Setting his empty plate and glass safely beneath the bench where he would not kick them, he closes his eyes and relaxes to the sound of the breeze, the tangy sea-salt smell of the water nearby, and the lack ofnoise._

"_Didn't think I'd find anyone out here at this time of night," the voice reaches out to tickle along his ear. He startles, opening his eyes, and almost falls off the bench due to the precarious angle he had been leaning._

"_My lady Cousland!" he stands, offering a clumsy yet courtly bow._

_She waves him off and takes a seat next to where he had been before digging into the food plate she had balanced precariously in her hand, due to the large quantities of the banquet's offerings being piled on top._

"_Don't lady Cousland me. Sit down and relax. You wouldn't be out here if you hadn't needed it as badly as I did," she says around a mouthful of food, kicking off her slippers and tucking her feet up beneath her._

_Grinning at her, he does as she orders and sits so he's facing her, leaning his side against the back of their perch._

"_I couldn't wait to get out of there! So many people! They all had to touch, to talk, to do something with me, just to say they'd been at my birthday party, hosted by the all-mighty Teyrn Bryce Cousland! I don't know half of those people, well actually I don't know almost all of them. All falling over themselves to try and be the one to catch my eye, to be one of the first to wish me a happy sixteenth birthday, to press their gifts upon me in the hope I might find one of their sons likeable enough to marry in a couple years so they might have a chance at all this," she flits her hand in the direction of the main house._

"_Thank goodness tomorrow evening is just a private affair with my family and yours. It also happens to be my real birthday tomorrow too, and oh Maker I couldn't handle another crush like this on tomorrow of all days," she stops, looking over to see Nathaniel watching her with those deep, dark, penetrating eyes of his._

"_Do I have something on my face? Did I spill something?" she asks, setting her plate down and checking herself over, running her fingers over her face and mouth, trying to find the reason he's staring so intently. She stops as she feels his thumb brush lightly over her bottom lip, her eyes going wide, as she turns to face him. Her heart begins hammering in her chest as she stares into his eyes, unable to look away._

"_Just a crumb, right here," he whispers, a catch in his throat, as he leans forward to press his lips at the corner of her mouth where his thumb had just vacated. She feels a flutter low in her belly and her eyes close. Without thinking she turns her head so her soft lips are full on his, and she reaches up to wind her fingers through his thick black hair, letting the long strands tease the sensitive pads of her fingertips. A husky groan eminates from deep within Nathaniel's chest as his hands reach out to pull her face closer, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips lightly until she opens them on a gasp, affording him the moment he was after and he delves in, playing his tongue against hers, reveling in the delighted mewls she was making, and the trembles of her body._

"_I think I saw her over here, Lord Cousland," a guard's voice harshly breaks the silence, the two springing apart as the footsteps draw near._

"_Happy Birthday, Ana," Nathaniel whispers, his grin a bit cheeky, as he snatches up any evidence he was there before slipping off to hide in the shadows, leaving her alone on the bench with her thoughts, her father not too far behind. She touches her lips lightly with her fingertips and she smiles a slow, secret smile, reveling in the taste of him - wine, spice, and man._

"I'm going to marry him someday,"_ she thinks to herself, turning as she hears her father calling her name._

"_Time to go back inside, Pup. Your adoring public awaits their guest of honor, and it wouldn't do to leave them waiting," he grins at her, his eyes sparkling as he can easily guess that she's as fond of these parties as he is. Standing, Anatanasia takes her father's arm, a maid scurrying around them to pick up the discarded dishes, and re-enters the keep, her mind on Nathaniel for the rest of the evening._


	2. Chapter 1

_**In Truth and Lies…**_

Chapter 1

The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, bathing the sky in peaches, oranges, pinks, and reds. Nathaniel propped himself up against the pillows of his bed and watched the changing colors through the slit in the wall of the guest room. As he wondered what her hair would look like under the dawn sky, his mind replayed the kiss he had shared with Anatanasia the previous evening at her birthday ball. He could still feel the softness of her lips against his, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, the sweetness of her taste. As he began to harden beneath the sheet, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to imagine what her body would feel like against his, her hand encircling him as his was, how tentative or bold her touch might be. While he knew such thoughts were wrong, he couldn't help but picture Ana beneath him, sinking himself into her, as he pleasured himself. Her name was a whispered prayer on his lips as he emptied himself onto his belly, his body trembling from the force of it all. Realization dawned on him that no other woman or fantasy had ever affected him so strongly as _she_ did.

"I need to see her again," he murmured to himself as he rolled onto his side, contemplating as to whether or not to drag himself out of bed.

"What're you mumbling about?" his brother muttered from across the room, the sleepiness in his voice quite apparent.

"Never you mind. Just go back to sleep."

The sounds of rope creaking and the shifting of the mattress, along with a soft snore, drifted over from Thomas's side of the room and Nathaniel grinned and shook his head at how quickly the young teen was able to dive back into sleep. Trying to be as quiet as possible he slid out of bed and began dressing, pulling on his leathers as he decided he'd ought to get some practice in before the rest of the household awoke.

~oOo~

Anatanasia jumped out of bed the moment the first light of dawn bathed the walls, careful not to wake her friend in the process. Delilah and her had stayed up quite late talking, catching up on the past few months since they had last seen each other. Ana had not yet told her best friend about Nate's kiss from the previous night, wanting to keep the magic of it to herself for a while longer. For as long as she could remember, she'd always liked Nathaniel. While he treated Delilah as only a brother would, and Ana knew quite a bit about how brothers treated their sisters, he always treated her as an equal and not some pesky little girl. There were times, though, that he did chase her around and try to tug on her hair, but at least he never tried to scare her or put disgusting things inside her smallclothes like Fergus was wont to do. Her smile turned a bit wicked as she remembered the last time her brother tried such a thing and ended up rewarded with a snake in his bed for his efforts. Who knew he was so scared of them? Shaking her head with a soft laugh, she braided her blonde hair back then went about quietly donning her chainmail, then equipping her sword and shield. Before leaving, she scribbled out a note to Delilah, letting her know where she had gone, then quietly left the room to head to the training field.

~oOo~

Nathaniel stared transfixed at the blond haired angel hacking away skillfully at one of the straw dummies, trying to equate what he was seeing now to the vision in gold from the previous evening. Her cheeks were flushed from her exertions and her hair stuck damply to her face, but yet he still thought her to be perfection. As he crept forward on silent feet, his eyes fixed on her, he walked into one of the dummies and found himself, as well as it, sprawled on the ground. Trying to make the best of an embarrassing situation, he propped his chin in one hand, using the dummy as a cushion, and watched her as she strode over to him, the laughter in her eyes turning their icy blue color into an almost shimmering silver.

"Looks like the dummy got the better of you instead of the other way around," Ana laughed as she looked down at Nathaniel.

"Well, what can I say, they're just evil like that. I took him down in the end though!" his grin was wide.

Snickering, she extended her hand to him, helping him up when he took it, grasping her forearm for leverage. They both stood still for a moment, hands still gripping each other's arms, dark eyes staring into light and vice versa. It was almost as though the world stood still, time frozen, until Nathaniel moved. Without a thought, his other hand reached up to grip at the back of her head and pull her to him until their lips touched. The stillness shattered. Lips, tongue, and teeth warred with each other as the two of them feasted hungrily, one drinking in the taste of the other. Minutes passed as hands roamed and fires burned. Gasping, the two of them slowly came apart, the looks that passed between them speaking volumes.

"I've been dreaming of this for years…"

"I've wanted this for so long…"

The two of them spoke at once, and at her words, Nathaniel stopped and stared at her, his hand reaching up to touch the side of her face.

"Once I come back to Ferelden we'll have to make this a permanent thing I think."

Her smile grew tremulous as she reached up to place her hand over his, turning her face to place a soft kiss into the palm of his hand.

"I would like that very much, Nate."

As he was about to reply, the sound of approaching footsteps reached their ears and a collective sigh went through both of them.

"Perhaps we can meet in the rose garden when the moon rises?" she asked, her heart in her throat.

"I'd like that," he smiled and they turned to take care of their fallen comrade, the straw dummy still laying on the ground, as some members of the Cousland guard came into view to begin their daily training.

~oOo~

Ana sat on one of the benches within the rose garden, the scent wafting lightly in the soft breeze. She was still amazed at all the different varieties and colors her mother had cultivated, her favorite being a soft silvery pink petaled rose. Gently cutting one from a bush next to where she sat, she twirled it within her fingers and brought it to her nose as she thought back to the events at dinner. Her father and Arl Howe had spent time regailing the others with stories and jokes, some of which had her mother groaning and shaking her head at their inappropriateness at the table. With the hope of Ana becoming more of a lady, her mother had given her a deep sapphire blue gown, and while recognizing the skill and beauty of the piece, Ana could never see herself ever wearing it. She felt more comfortable running around in leather breeches than dresses. Her father and Fergus had gifted her with a set of silverite plate armor, along with matching sword and shield, tooled with blue and the Cousland coat of arms. A smile curved her lips as she remembered her father's words of how a warrior needed good armor and that he thought it was time she had her own instead of Fergus's old chainmail. Knowing her penchant for reading, the Howes had given her a set of books. Even so, her favorite gift of all was the beginnings of a relationship between her and Nathaniel. She shifted slightly in her seat, stretching out her leather clad legs, and stared up at the sky, willing the moon to come out.

"I see you couldn't wait either," a voice sounded from behind her.

Turning so she ended up curled up on her seat, folding her arms along the top of the bench, she rested her chin on them as she grinned at Nathaniel. His teeth flashed white in the darkness as he returned her grin with a smile of his own.

"Of course I couldn't wait. At least I'm not alone in that."

"I would have been here sooner, but Delilah caught me in the hall and warned me to be good to you. It seems you told her what happened between us?" His eyes roved over her face as he questioned her.

"I couldn't help it. When I got back to my room this morning, she was wide awake and the first words out of her mouth were along the lines of how I looked as though I'd been well and thoroughly kissed and wondering if it was Ser Rowland who had done the ravishing. I had to set her straight," she chuckled, her mind wandering back to that interaction with her best friend, recapping the conversation for Nate.

_Ana rushed back to her room, her heart pounding in her chest, unable to keep the smile under wraps after the scene in the training hall earlier. Running into her room she shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, grinning like a fool._

"_Looks like you were kissed and quite thoroughly might I add?" Delilah asked, making her way toward her friend._

"_Mmmhmmm, and a wonderful kiss it was too. Lovely thing to start my birthday off with," Ana sighed dreamily._

"_Was it that delicious Ser Rowland who kissed you? I know he sends my heart all aflutter whenever I see him."_

_Ana makes gagging noises then grins, sliding down into a sitting position against the door._

"_Ser Rowland? Oh Maker no! He's like a brother to me and the thought of kissing my brother… ewww!"_

_Her eyes become dreamy again as she stares off into space, only coming back to reality as Delilah waves her hand in front of Ana's face._

"_Remember how I told you that I've been in love with someone for a couple of years now?"_

"_The one who you said that even though you know he has moods, has always treated you as though you have a mind of your own, is intelligent, has a wicked sense of humor even though it's not often seen, a soft spot for animals and anyone in distress, blah blah blah?" Delilah retorts, watching her friend._

"_Yes, him. He's the one who kissed me. He kissed me last night too, when I ran off to hide from my own party."_

"_The only person who had disappeared at the same time as you last night was… oh Maker… you're not serious are you? Nathaniel? You're in love with my brother? Andraste's tits! How did I not see this before now? You two always did seem to gravitate toward each other whenever together."_

_Delilah sat down in front of Ana, taking her friend's hands in her own._

"_For whatever it's worth, I think you two are perfect for each other. Your sunnyness helps combat his dark moods, your laughter always brings a smile to his face, and he always seems to be a happier person when you're around. Just be good to him, please?"_

_Ana squeezed Delilah's hands gently, her smile soft and warm._

"_I love him Delilah. I'll always try to be good to him. He's already spoken of a union between the two of us when he returns to Ferelden."_

_Delilah crows in delight and flings herself at Ana, hugging her tight._

Nathaniel walked around the bench and took a seat next to Ana, pulling her onto his lap and taking her face within his hands.

"You do bring light to my darkness, as Delilah said. I'm glad she's thrilled with the idea of our union. It'll make things easier when I come back and speak to my father about wedding you. I don't know why, but I have this strange feeling that he's grooming Thomas as arl and will try to match him with you. That won't happen. _You're mine_," he fairly growls the last words as he brings her face closer to his.

"And you're mine," she whispers, leaning in the last few inches to press her lips against his, sliding her fingers into the heavy black locks of his hair.

He teases her mouth open with his tongue, swallowing her mewl of pleasure, and diving in to taste and memorize every inch of her lips and mouth. His hands work at the hefty weight of her braid, loosening her hair so that it flows around them, then lifts her up so she can straddle him.

Leaning over him, her mouth fastened to his, her hair cascades around them both, creating a curtain to keep the world outside. Her hands fist in his hair as he pulls her down tight against him, the hard evidence of his desire pressing against the juncture of her thighs. Ana lets out a soft whimper into his mouth as she rocks against him, her body thrumming with newfound desire. Her head falls back as he releases her mouth, his lips and tongue now a hot, wet, caress on her throat. His hands grip her back, holding her in place, as her body bows out when his mouth finds the skin above the button of her shirt, pushing it to the side so he can taste the skin near her heart.

"I wish… I wish…" she moans softly, unable to finish her thought.

"What do you wish?" he asks hoarsely, lifting his face to look at her, his breath catching as he sees the look of rapture on her face in the pale moonlight.

She opens her eyes and looks at him, her eyes cloudy and more silver than blue.

"I wish I could truly be with you…"

"Not yet, my pet, but it'll happen, I promise."

He smiles and kisses her softly before gently setting her away from him, catching her as she stumbled on weak knees, standing himself.

"I think we should stop before this goes any further. I'll make sure to see you in the morning before I leave."

She blinks up at him owlishly as the fog of need slowly clears from her head. Her hand trembles as she reaches up to brush a lock of hair off his face and tuck it behind his ear.

"If I don't have a chance to say it tomorrow before you go, I love you Nathaniel. Be safe on your journey, please?"

"For you, love, anything."

Smiling, he kisses her one last time before disappearing into the shadows, leaving her staring into the darkness with a soft smile on her face and a lone tear sliding down her cheek.


End file.
